


Pillowtalk

by CrazyM, Tigole Bitties (CrazyM)



Series: Birdmoms [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Married Couple, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Naked Cuddling, Original Character(s), Pillow Talk, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-16 20:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyM/pseuds/CrazyM, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyM/pseuds/Tigole%20Bitties
Summary: "I missed you so much." Fareeha says with a mixture of longing and deep relief, kissing Angela on the jaw in an awkward, sloppy half-kiss, given their positions, which somehow made it all the more passionate, all the more intimate, that Fareeha wanted to kiss her wife so badly she didn't care about how she did it. Angela leans into the kiss, framing her wife's face with her palm. Oh how much she loved this woman. "I love you.""I love you too." Angela says softly, the last thing before sleep pulls them both under.REMASTERED: Now with stronger lines of thought, more dialogue, better descriptions, and 1329 more words





	Pillowtalk

**Author's Note:**

> Because Coffee is painfully slow. I need some fluff, some angst and I need it now!

"Can I talk to you?" Fareeha says, still holding her bag by its straps. Almost like she expected to be turned away. Angela turns over and sits up, clutching the covers over her collarbone. She considers her wife, with her Helix issued jacket, boots and cargo pants. It was functional, and also offered plenty of protection against the elements. Angela's head spams, which could have been interpreted as a nod. She wants to be angry, but she can't stop the feeling of relief over her. Fareeha was back, and she was alright. Angela knew Fareeha was back when the door had clicked open and her heart was flooded with relief, but she was afraid to see what her wife would look like, after what she was like during the heavily televised press conference. That fear had made her try to sleep with her back to the door. Angela lies back down, leaving a little bit of her back uncovered so that Fareeha could know she was welcome into her space.

Fareeha locks the door behind her, casting the bag to the side and then stripping. She joins Angela under the covers and takes her place as the bigger spoon. She presses her lips over Angela's bare shoulder. Angela feels like she can melt into her warmth. She tries to feel for any bandages when Fareeha snuggles into her, but all she can find is the smooth expanse of her wife's skin. She was awash with comfort, warmth, safety, and most of all, relief. She knew Fareeha was alive and well when she was watching her on TV, their daughter screaming in delight when she spotted her mother, but this was different. This was real. This could not be doubted.

"How are you doing?" Fareeha begins, rubbing Angela's arm gently. Angela feels the familiar texture of her battle-hardened palm.

"I'm doing fine." Angela says, her tone flat. She was relieved, which did not mean she wasn't upset.

"How's Aisha doing?" Fareeha asks next. Angela feels a pang of guilt at the mention of her daughter, who was sleeping soundly in the next room. Aisha didn't know enough, didn't understand enough to worry about Fareeha in a way that could keep her awake at nights.

"Aisha's doing fine. She was crying in the middle of class again." Angela says. Of course Aisha worried, but it was far more basic. She was crying because she couldn't see her mother now, not because of the implication that there was a chance she might never see her again. 

Fareeha falls silent. She knew this was going to pop up. Fareeha wanted to talk about it too. Angela beats her to it.

"We didn't talk for a _week_, Fareeha." Angela says softly. "Why didn't we talk for a week? No phone calls, no messages. Nothing at all."

Fareeha wants to say something, but what else was it other than the selfish desire to keep Angela from worrying about her? The mission had culminated in the closest of calls Fareeha could have survived. It wasn't something she could talk about without her voice getting caught in her throat. She wanted to keep it away from Angela, but the media had blown the whole operation wide open. Fareeha remembers returning from the press conference with over a hundred missed calls on her phone. Of course, who wouldn't call her after seeing her bandaged so heavily?

But then again, her wife was softening the blow. Fareeha had been gone for a month and a half. It had all gone awry during the last week of the mission, which was when Angela needed more information, not none at all.

"I didn't want you to worry." Fareeha whispers into her skin. It was a blatant lie. Both the women knew each other well enough to know that.

"Worried? We are _married_, Fareeha." Angela replies. "We have a _daughter_. I understand the decision to not work in Overwatch together, that our relationship could cloud our judgement, but why can't I know your whereabouts now that you work in Helix? Who would worry about you if not me, your wife?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you, Angela." Fareeha replies. It was the plausible deniability that kept Angela safer, although it was just an additional measure. No one would dare to touch Angela while Overwatch was watching over her and Aisha.

"But can't you atleast tell me where you are? How dangerous the mission is? Do you have any idea how much it kills me to not know? How much it kills me when Aisha asks me where you are and all I can say is you're out for work? How much it kills me that if you were in trouble, if you were in danger, and I would not be able to do anything about it?"

Angela wants to say more, but her words are caught in her throat. She feels tears streak down her face. She takes a shaky breath to finish her end of the conversation. Fareeha feels a pang of guilt in her heart.

"A-and what if one day you just-you just-" Angela tries, but she can't bring herself to say it. She covers her face in her palms. Fareeha wraps her arms around Angela's form, running her thumb over the wedding band on Angela's finger. "How will I tell Aisha? T-that you won't be there anymore suddenly? That-that-"

Angela starts crying in earnest. Fareeha presses her lips where Angela's shoulder and neck come together. They silently stay in this embrace. Fareeha cannot say anything that could make her wife feel better. She feels fate teaching her a lesson. How the days after the discovery of her mother's ruse of death were just a blur of tears, rage, and most of all, helplessness. How she couldn't do anything about it even if she wanted to. How she could have felt so safe if she had known. But she didn't know. And she was so lonely. Did Angela feel the same too, in the days leading up to the fateful press conference? Fearing that she would have to suddenly deal with Fareeha just gone? It makes her screw her eyes shut to wall off the imagery. Angela and Aisha, living without her.

"Aisha worries too." Angela concludes, wanting to let her wife talk now. She needed to compose herself.

"_Ya rouhi_, I have nothing to say that can make me look good. Nothing at all. It was just a selfish desire to not let you worry about me. I didn't want to go on a mission thinking about you and how you would be tying yourself in knots in your surgeries or lab. How you would answer Aisha's questions. I wouldn't be able to focus until the mission ends, and neither would you." Fareeha says calmly. They were adults, and Angela wanted to hear her half of the conversation as well. "I thought about this for an entire week, if I could have let you know and not worry about how you would take it. It would have made things way worse. I might not have survived it."

"Stop! Please stop!" Angela whimpers, as if the words were causing her physical pain. "D-don't talk about it anymore. I forbid you." She says, turning over to bury her face into Fareeha's chest. Her tears are hot and wet against her skin, and her arms are tucked between them, pressing into a sore spot on Fareeha ribs, but she doesn't care. She'd patiently wait, and talk it through with Angela, put all her fears and doubts to rest. It didn't matter that they would have to be awake, even after that _exhausting_ trip. It didn't matter. Fareeha threads her fingers through her wife's golden locks, consoling her. Her other hand wraps around Angela's free hand, bringing it up to see the platinum wedding band on her ring finger.

"Sometimes, I still can't believe it." Fareeha says, like she was dreaming and was aware of it. "I see you and Aisha, and think how lucky I am to have the two of you." She says and tightens her embrace, and ignores the rib crying out in protest. It was nothing compared to the pain she had given her wife. Pain she didn't deserve. "I go on missions every single time to make sure its safe out there, and I trust no one else to keep you safe but me."

Angela's crying dies down. She stays where she is just for the sake of listening, not wanting to sacrifice this newfound closeness. Not wanting to withdraw from her wife's reassuring warmth, from the safety she felt with the muscular arms around her form. The vow of protection made her even more content, making her sigh.

"No amount of sorry will make up for what I did, honestly." Fareeha admits, kissing Angela on the head this time. "I have nothing to defend myself with. I could have sent you atleast a message. Just one line."

"I understand your concern, _liebling._" Angela says. She understood it very well. What if Fareeha did tell her, but also was worried about Angela's reaction to it? They loved each other, dearly, blatantly, defiantly. Almost to a fault at times, and she could see Fareeha worrying herself over Angela worrying over her. It was funny to think of, but also extremely terrifying. What if Fareeha's worry distracted her in the battlefield? She opens her eyes to deny the mental imagery beginning to form, of Fareeha lying somewhere, broken, lifeless, forgotten. "I also understand that you were trying to protect me from getting too worried, and you losing focus. And honestly, I see why you didn't send me a single message. It would have killed your focus and made you homesick. I get it. I respect that."

"Thank you." Fareeha says into Angela's skin. Her explanation felt like she had understood why Fareeha hadn't told her. Their foreheads meet, not very close, yet more fitting than a kiss. They had many fights, but this was the place where they united, always. The place where they opened up to each other, and were naked to each other in more ways than one. The intimacy between them was the greatest here, when they were alone, together. No matter what they were going through, this is where they could sort through it all, gain strength from each other.

Angela takes a more comfortable position, back to being spooned. Fareeha almost sighs in relief when her sore rib is unloaded. She does sigh anyways when Angela's back is pressing into her once again. Fareeha wraps her arm around Angela's midriff. The mood was lighter now, after the grim reality of the mission had been addressed and faced properly, and both of them had put their sides of the story and come to a conclusion. She loved Angela for how receptive, accommodating and intelligent she was. And the fact that they could put their differences aside, and talk to each other with complete understanding and respect for the other. It fills her heart with content and deep affection.

"Apparently Winston told Aisha a story and she's now telling it to everyone. So be ready for that first thing in the morning." Angela says, now that the heavy stuff was out of the way. Their daughter was another proof of how much they loved each other. No matter how big their fights were, their marriage and their Aisha would motivate them to sort through their differences. It was oddly binding, yet strangely freeing. And now, as Angela talks about the little bundle of joy and innocence, it fills Fareeha with hope. No matter what, she and her wife would make it through. Night by night.

Fareeha giggles, her heart fluttering for a little while, so happy to be back. "Winston is a passionate storyteller."

Angela chuckles in response. "He would have been a novelist if he wasn't a scientist and was married to his profession. He still puts Brigitte to sleep sometimes with his stories."

Fareeha laughs into Angela's skin. They let this topic wash over in the silence, which had become much more intimate now.

"I missed you so much." Fareeha says with a mixture of longing and deep relief, kissing Angela on the jaw in an awkward, sloppy half-kiss, given their positions, which somehow made it all the more passionate, all the more intimate, that Fareeha wanted to kiss her wife so badly she didn't care about how she did it. Angela leans into the kiss, framing her wife's face with her palm. Oh how much she loved this woman. "I love you."

"I love you too." Angela says softly, the last thing before sleep pulls them both under.

*

"She's awake." Angela groans, when they are roused by the pounding of the door, and unintelligible screaming behind it. Aisha was so bubbly and energetic, rivaling Lena in cheerfulness. The decision to lock the door was an intelligent one, as Aisha walking in on them naked would have been awkward for them, even if the child was too young to understand. The women had slept noticeably later than they would have liked, and it did make their eyelids heavy, but Fareeha needed her eyes open right now. Angela quickly pads over to the closet to get them something to wear, during which Fareeha lays her eyes over her wife's bare form, her luxurious curves, her creamy skin. The way her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. The way her skin felt under her fingers.

Angela notices this and throws a shirt in Fareeha's direction, which spreads over her wife's face. "Now, now, behave yourself, _liebling_."

Fareeha smiles at this and flops down on the bed. She was a little more sleepy than she thought. She hears the rustle of fabric, and then Angela's lips on her own.

"Wake up, _liebchen_. Little tornado is coming." She says fondly. Fareeha smiles sleepily, putting on the shirt and flopping down on the bed once again. Angela opens the door and their daughter storms into the room. She spots Fareeha and her tiny face lights up. Her brown hair was tied in a messy bun, which had gone wild during sleep.

"Mama!" she screams and launches herself upon Fareeha's form. Fareeha catches her before she can cause any damage, nuzzling her nose into Aisha's neck, making the girl chortle in happiness. Fareeha then pulls her into the bed.

"Aisha? What have I told you about greeting people the first time you see them?" Angela says, in a soft, gentle, reprimanding tone. Fareeha stops to let Aisha listen. Aisha stands on the mattress.

"Oh!" Aisha quips, looking at Fareeha. "Good morning, Mama!"

"Good morning, Ya amar." Fareeha says. Aisha looks at Angela next. "Good morning, Mutti!"

Fareeha smiles at the word. They had taught Aisha the word for mother in different languages, which made differentiation easier, yet keeping the root meaning same. It showed how much thought, understanding and love they had lavished on their marriage and their daughter.

"Good girl." Angela says. "Very well done."

"Danke!" Aisha replies, as if she was trying to show off. Angela smiles at this. So does Fareeha.

"Let's sleep now, Aisha. Mama is feeling sleepy" Fareeha says, practically locking her daughter in an embrace. Aisha tries to wriggle out of Fareeha's strong arms fruitlessly while laughing and huffing, while Angela took the time to brush. Fareeha loosens her grip just enough to let her escape. "You don't want to sleep with mama?" She says with a half-hurt expression.

"Aisha has to go to school." Angela says, returning and now taking away Fareeha's old clothes and tucking away her bag in the closet, clearing up the mess Fareeha had made in her desperation last night.

"Mutti! No!" Aisha whines.

"Mutti, come on!" Fareeha whines with her. Aisha makes her point by gluing herself to Fareeha, standing on the mattress. Angela smiles, so does Fareeha. 

"Alright." Angela relents dramatically, meeting Fareeha's eyes. _I love you_, Fareeha mouths silently. Angela picks up Aisha, mouths the reply behind their daughter's back and takes her away, giving her enough time to brush, and a little privacy. Fareeha was still nude from the bottom half, but the covers had hidden her perfectly. Fareeha joins them in the kitchen a few minutes later.

"Who wants to eat some pancakes?" Fareeha asks anyone who cared to listen, but she knew it was just for her daughter's ears. Aisha lets out a joyous scream that pierces their ears, but fills their hearts with a satisfied, content warmth.

"Mama! Winston told me a story!" Aisha says, remembering it right now. Angela sits on the dining chairs, picking her phone up and canceling a few appointments.

"Really?" Fareeha asks, feigning surprise. It was believable enough for Aisha to buy it. She pulls out a container of flour from the closet. She missed this. She would be lying if she said she wasn't. She missed the nights spent with a goddess of a wife, sleeping and waking up basking in her warmth. She missed their contact, the feel of her skin, the golden hair, and how she smelled, so detached from the grim odor of war, blood and spent cartridges. She missed Aisha oh so much. She missed these moments they had in the morning. She missed the sight of her wife in the early hours of the morning.

"Will you tell me the story?" Fareeha says, picking Aisha up and setting her down on the counter. Aisha nods fervently in response. "Okay, _Ya amar_. Tell me all about it."

**Author's Note:**

> "Aisha" was a name directly inspired by mar106's name for Angela and Fareeha's daughter in their fic, who had named the daughter "Adila". I could have yoinked the name but I didn't feel like it.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are welcome and highly appreciated! Make my day!


End file.
